


Kirk in Wartime

by larosesombre



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, Celebrations, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Peace, V-J Day, Violent Sheep, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larosesombre/pseuds/larosesombre
Summary: When you’re an officer in the US army, about to be sent to the front to fight the Nazis, the last thing you expect is a career-ending stampede of British sheep. Captain James T. Kirk of the 35th Infantry Division, got run over by sheep and subsequently discharged. It was a disgrace that he knew he would never live down. So when 1945 rolled around, Jim had followed the news religiously. Now it was August 14, 1945, and Japan had surrendered. But Jim hadn’t bought his daily newspaper yet, and he didn’t know this. Instead, he was standing on the sidewalk outside of a grocer, ration booklet clutched in his hand, waiting for it to open.
Kudos: 2





	Kirk in Wartime

**Author's Note:**

> This is a silly little story that I wrote based on the prompt: Choose a fictional character and write about what they are doing at the end of WWII. Enjoy! -- larosesombre

Jim stared down at the raindrop where it landed on his worn leather oxfords. He stared at it momentarily, wondering if the drop would leave a stain, and not really caring. The fading Summer heat radiated from the pavement around him, and he watched the next lazy drop sizzle into it, disappearing in a small puff of steam. He didn’t think it was going to rain that heavily, and if it did it would just be the icing on the cake to this terrible, terrible day.

Jim had been posted in England and was hankering for a chance to get closer to the action. He had been practically begging to be sent to the front, away from England where the most exciting thing he had done was lead his small company around a rural town during an air raid, ensuring that citizens knew what to do to keep safe.

He had signed up when America had joined the war, eager to be involved and to give his service to his country. He had done well. He had risen in the ranks to the position of Captain, and he led a small company of 100 men. When they had decided to repost him to rural England, they had paired the company down to 60, and he had spent the majority of the war guarding sheep against German bombs. He supposed he should consider himself lucky. He had spent the war safely away from harm, but he had a burning desire to do more. To offer more.

In 1944, they had nearly given him that chance. He had been reposted to mainland Europe, and he had been thrilled. Anything to get away from England, where it rained. Where nothing happened but the occasional bombing that carried off a few sheep. Of course, it was much worse in the major centres of population. But Jim didn’t want to be stuck in England. He wanted to fight, to  _ do  _ something to stop Hitler. 

He had been a week away from being shipped out, and he had been preparing himself for it when the worst had happened. Not the worst for the war effort, not the worst for the Allied powers. The worst for Jim. He had screwed up and gotten injured. He had been discharged, days away from his chance to be a hero. 

From anyone else's point of view, it would have been almost comical how it happened. The day had started like any other, and Jim had woken up to the sound of an air raid siren. He had risen, and had followed the proper procedure to the letter. He just hadn’t counted on the sheep. They had never behaved quite like this before, but the sound of the air raid horn caused a stampede. 

When you’re an officer in the US army, about to be sent to the front to fight the Nazis, the last thing you expect is a career-ending stampede of British sheep. Captain James T. Kirk of the 35th Infantry Division, got run over by sheep. And subsequently discharged. It was a disgrace that he knew he would never live down. 

So when 1945 rolled around, Jim had followed the news religiously. He was stuck in England, recovering from his unfortunate injury, and he spent every waking moment studying the advancements of the Allies through the  _ Telegraph _ . He thought about what his division must be doing, and pictured the glorious battles that must be taking place on the front. He had been overjoyed when the Germans had surrendered in May, and he had spent the last few months cursing the Japanese for their stubbornness.

In August he had received the news of the atomic bombs being dropped, and he had waited, holding his breath with the rest of the world for a verdict. Now it was August 14, 1945, and Japan had surrendered. But Jim hadn’t bought his daily newspaper yet, and he didn’t know this. Instead, he was standing on the sidewalk outside of a grocer, ration booklet clutched in his hand, waiting for the store to open so that he could pick up some mutton. He got a vindictive pleasure out of eating mutton, and it was one thing that there wasn’t a terrible shortage of. 

He suffered silently while he waited, watching the sky anxiously for more signs of rain. At 9:10, Jim glanced at his watch and wondered why the shop wasn’t open yet. At a quarter after he began to get annoyed. By 9:20 he walked up and banged on the door. They should have been open already, and the least people could do during wartime was open their shop on time. Morale was low, and routine was good for people. Nobody answered at first, and Jim banged on the door even louder. Eventually, the shop’s owner opened the door, she was a wizened old woman. It was her son’s shop, but she had taken over when he had rushed off to join the RAF. 

“Yes, Young Man?” She said, grinning almost obscenely at him. He hadn’t seen anyone smile like that since before the war. “‘Ow may I ‘elp you?”

Jim wasn’t quite sure what to say now that he had seen her. He stuttered out something about mutton and was quite shocked when she grabbed at his arm and steered him into a chair inside the shop. He watched her curiously as she bustled about behind the counter. She began chattering while she fetched the item he had requested. 

“It’s a blessing. That’s what I told my Albert this morning. And ‘im too old to go fight, bless ‘is soul. I told ‘im: ‘Albert, Albert it’s a blessing’. And so it is, Young Man.”

“The mutton?” Jim asked, weakly. 

“The war!” She exclaimed, tying twine around the mutton in its brown paper wrapper. “It’s a miracle, it is.”

“The war?” Jim asked. “Ma’am, I would hardly call the war a blessing.”

“No! The news, ‘ave you not ‘eard?” She stopped what she was doing and stared across the counter at him. 

“Heard what?” Jim was thoroughly confused at this point.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” She exclaimed, looking him up and down. She turned abruptly and shouted off at some space behind the counter. “‘Ere Albert, there’s a young American ‘ere what doesn’t know about the war!”

There was a clattering sound somewhere above them, then from some obscured staircase, a portly old man came barreling towards them. “Doesn’t know? Well, ‘e ‘ad better sit down Eileen. Get ‘im a cup of tea and this morning’s  _ Telegraph _ , won’t you?” 

Jim watched them apprehensively, rather wishing he hadn’t decided to purchase mutton that morning as he watched the couple turn back to him behind the counter. They both faced him, holding out a newspaper, and grinning at him expectantly. Jim reached out and took it gingerly, unfolding the paper and staring down at it. It took him a moment to process what he was seeing. 

“Japan: Unconditional Surrender. Midnight Broadcast by Mr. Atlee as Victory Days Announced To-Day and To-Morrow.”

Jim read it once. He read it twice. Then he had jumped from the chair and was hooting and hollering, jumping excitedly with the old couple as they revelled in the news that peace was upon them. Japan had surrendered, and Jim could go home. He could leave this island, with its rain, and its shops that didn’t open on time. And most excitingly of all, he would leave those sheep far behind him. 

Jim spent that day in the company of Albert and Eileen. They cooked the mutton, and they read and re-read the article together, and they listened to the radio as people all around the world celebrated in a similar fashion. Jim couldn’t remember being this happy since the day he had enlisted. He had been going off to fulfill some great purpose, and now that purpose had been fulfilled. Hitler was defeated, and the Japanese had followed suit. It was an official victory at last, and America would be calling its troops home. 

Jim wasn’t sure what he would do after the war. But he had some ideas. Ideally, he would get far away from the farming states, where he might run into sheep. He had a feeling his next adventure would be on a boat somewhere, but one thing he knew for sure. No matter where he went, he would remember this day forever. He would remember Albert and Eileen, and the overwhelming feeling of relief that peace brought with it.

THE END.

  
  



End file.
